by Drew Hunt
“You were fan-fucking-tastic,” Joey whispered.
“I’ve never done that thing with my foreskin before, but then all the men I’ve been with were uncut like me.”
Joey wanted to ask how many men Kevin had been with, but then he’d have to disclose his own sexual history. He was ashamed to realise he wouldn’t be able to put a figure on it. In an effort to distract himself, Joey pulled his robe closed over the pair of them, and Kevin worked his arms around Joey’s back, pulling himself tight against his lover’s chest. As they lay in post-coital bliss, someone rang the doorbell.
Joey swore softly. “I told you this’d happen.”
Kevin giggled.
“You gonna answer it?”
“Nah.” After licking his man’s jaw, Kevin whispered “I love you so much, Sir.” He then returned his head to Joey’s shoulder.
Joey tightened his arms around Kevin. “Love you, too, Pup.”
Within moments the only sound in the room came from Kevin’s slow and regular breathing. As Joey had slept most of the day, he wasn’t tired, so he stayed awake, gazing at the sleeping form of his lover, marvelling at how privileged he was to be given his total devotion.
* * * *
Joey had held off going to the bathroom for as long as he could. He’d always needed to piss after coming. Unable to wait any longer, he rolled over so Kevin was next to the couch’s back cushions. It took a couple of moments to separate their flesh, the dried semen that coated both their groins acting as an adhesive. Once free, Joey slipped out from under the duvet. He then made a mad dash for the bathroom, arriving just in time.
Re-entering the living room, Joey saw Kevin was awake. He also realised the place had become overly warm and stuffy.
“Think I best turn the heat down a bit.”
“Okay, Sir.” Kevin yawned.
Reaching for the thermostat, Joey turned the dial to its minimum setting, deciding it would be much cosier if he and Kevin snuggled under the duvet. As he walked towards the TV, Joey wondered where all the romantic candle lit shit was coming from. The old him would have never sat on his sofa under a duvet with a partner and just snuggled.
“There might be a decent horror film on tonight, it being Halloween,” Joey said, sitting down next to Kevin.
Kevin shivered.
“You don’t like horror films?”
“Uh, no, not really.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. I’ll see that none of the nasty monsters get you.”
“Uh, thanks, I think.”
Joey chuckled. Settling on a movie that had just started, he pulled the quilt over the pair of them and wrapped an arm loosely around Kevin’s back.
About fifteen minutes into the film, when a disembodied hand rose from an open coffin, Kevin squeaked and pressed himself up against Joey’s side. “Oh God! I don’t like it!”
Joey shook his head. He’d seen much scarier things than that. “Just wait till you see all the blood and disembodied limbs in the next scene.”
Kevin dived under the duvet, curling the top half of his body around Joey’s chest.
“There, there, Pup, it’s okay.” Joey rubbed Kevin’s back. “I was only joking. I’ve not seen this film before, so I don’t know if there’ll be any blood or body parts.”
Kevin poked his head from under the quilt just as a piercing scream came out of the surround sound speakers. With lightning speed he shot under the duvet again. Joey was beginning to get a little concerned. He never imagined Kevin would have such an extreme reaction.
“Hey, Pup, it’s okay. It’s not real.”
“Sorry, Sir, I just don’t like things like that.”
“You want me to switch it off?”
Kevin hesitated. “It’s your house and your TV.”
Joey took that to mean a yes, but he had an idea. “Wanna try something? It might help you deal with some of this scary shit.”
Hesitantly, Kevin said, “Um, okay.”
When the screen showed a vampire walking across a deserted moonlit street, Joey pointed to the figure. “Hey, wouldn’t it be funny if that vampire was Jewish?”
Kevin looked at his lover as if he’d gone mad.
Doing his best imitation of Frankenstein, Joey said, “Oy, Mister, you eaten any bacon recently? I can only drink kosher blood, ya know.”
Kevin giggled.
When the vampire entered the haunted house, Joey said, “Just look at all the muck in there, my mother would have a conniption if she saw it.”
Every surface in the place was covered with a thick layer of dust, which stirred in the draughts coming through the ill-fitting windows. Large cobwebs hung from the ceiling beams, and a black cat, its green eyes opened wide, slunk across the room.
“Yeah.” Kevin seemed to be getting into the spirit. When the vampire opened a door, which creaked with the obligatory loud squeak, he said, “Those hinges could do with a spot of lubricating oil.”
“Yeah. You know, I bet the place is owned by a Jew.”
“Oh?” Kevin turned from the screen to look at Joey.
“Think about it. The house is all dark and gloomy, there’s just one low wattage bulb burning. ‘Oy, why should I switch on all the lights, I know what the room looks like,“ Joey said, putting on an over-the-top Jewish accent.
The movie soon grew boring and predictable. A no longer frightened Kevin began to yawn, and rested his head on Joey’s shoulder. Deciding there was probably little else to choose from, Joey kept watching, but things didn’t get any better.
By the time the credits rolled, Joey was beginning to yawn himself, so he turned off the set with the remote control.
“Think I’ll have a hot toddy. With a bit of luck it’ll make me sweat out the rest of this bloody cold.” He needed to get back to work. He hated all the lying around he’d done over the past few days.
“Let me do it, Sir.” Kevin said, making to rise.
Joey put a hand on his pup’s shoulder. “Nah, you stay here.”
A naked Joey padded into the kitchen. Because he’d turned the heating off earlier, the room was chilly. The vinyl flooring was icy cold on his bare feet. He wished he’d put his dressing gown on, as well as his rarely-used slippers.
Pulling out a half bottle of whisky from behind the fridge—his mother didn’t approve of strong drink—Joey set about his task.
His first attempt tasted foul, so he poured it down the sink.
“Sir?”
Joey turned round to see Kevin standing in the doorway, holding out his dressing gown and a pair of slippers. “Thanks, Pup.” Joey wrapped the terry towelling robe around himself. “Thought I told you to stay under the quilt.”
“Sorry, Sir, but, um, well, um, I missed you, and I knew it’d be cold in here.” Kevin lowered his head.
“Com’ere.” Joey gave Kevin a hug. It was so cute how the little guy was always thinking of him. “Have you any idea how to make a hot toddy? I had to chuck the last one away, it was bloody awful.”
After scanning the ingredients on the counter, Kevin asked, “Did you put honey in it?”
“Honey? I don’t have any.”
Kevin opened the door of the tall cupboard, and there, right at the front of the middle shelf stood a large jar of clear honey. “Here,” Kevin said, putting it on the counter alongside the lemon juice, tea caddy and bottle of whisky. “I’ll show you how to do it, just in case…” Kevin hesitated, “Well, um, just in case you want to make one when I’m not around.”
Joey squeezed Kevin’s shoulder. He knew what his lover was thinking. It pained him to know that the two of them couldn’t live openly as a couple. What with Joey not being out to his family, it just couldn’t be. Or could it? Did he have the courage to choose his romantic love, over his love for his family? Joey shuddered. He didn’t have an answer, so pushed it to the back of his mind.
“Make a hot toddy for yourself as well. It’ll help you sleep and might ward off my germs.”
* * * *
/> The two men sat on the settee, sipping their drinks. Kevin’s attempt at a hot toddy was far more palatable, though Joey knew he would always prefer his whisky on the rocks.
Kevin was drooping, Joey knew the man had put in a hard day at work. Parker’s secretary was still off sick, and with him not being there to oversee things, Joey was fairly certain old Parker was running his pup ragged.
Despite his best efforts, Joey’s mind still kept returning to the internal debate that he’d been having over his family versus Kevin. But no matter which way he tried to organise things, he couldn’t come to any satisfactory resolution.
The noise of a glass softly hitting the carpet brought Joey back to the present. Kevin was fast asleep, his mouth slightly open, a line of drool beginning to creep down his chin.
Picking up Kevin’s empty glass, Joey set it—along with his own—on the coffee table. “Guess I better carry you to bed then, huh?” Joey said, kissing Kevin’s forehead.
Gathering his lover in the quilt, Joey picked him up and carried him out of the room, turning the light off with his elbow as he passed the switch.
Chapter 8
Despite feeling like death warmed over, Joey knew when he woke up on Friday morning he had to go into work. Another day spent in bed would drive him round the bend. There was also the very real possibility his mother would visit and continue her Jewish equivalent of Florence Nightingale. Joey shuddered at the thought.
Stretching out, Joey soon realised the other side of the bed was unoccupied. Had he slept in? Had Kevin already left for work? A glance at his alarm clock told him it was only 7:30, so where the heck was Kevin?
Sliding his feet into his slippers—Kevin must have left them by the bed—Joey got up, and after siphoning the python, followed his nose into the kitchen.
“Mornin, Pup, what ya doin?” Joey soon realised the smell of kippers, combined with the heavenly odour of filter coffee, made his question unnecessary.
Kevin walked over to his naked lover, wrapped his arms around him and kissed the side of his neck. “I thought I’d make sure you were fed before I went off to work.”
“I’ve decided to go in myself today.”
Kevin shook his head. “You’re not well enough. I…”
“I’ll go completely loopy if I have to spend another day cooped up in here.”
“But, Sir, all your jobs have been farmed out to the other drivers. So there wouldn’t be anything for you to do.”
“I’m sure my pup can work his usual magic and find me something,” Joey said, looking into his lover’s deep brown eyes.
“Uh,” Kevin moaned.
It thrilled Joey to know he could stun his lover into immobility, just by staring at him.
Sniffing, Joey said, “I think something’s burning.”
“Oh shit!” Kevin broke from his trance and raced to the cooker, pulling out a smouldering grill pan, its contents looking somewhat overcooked. “I’m so sorry, Sir, there should be time to make something else for you. I’ll…I’ll clean up the mess and…”
Joey embraced his lover from behind and gave him a squeeze. Taking the pan from Kevin’s grasp, Joey set it on top of the stove. “It doesn’t look too bad. Kippers, haven’t had them in ages. You’re determined to keep me kosher aren’t you?”
“I think it’s important somehow. It’s all part of what makes you, well, um, you.”
Joey shook his head. Kevin had some strange ideas at times. “You go and sit down, I’ll see to the rest of breakfast.”
“No it’s okay, Sir, I’ll do it.”
Turning Kevin by his shoulders to face him, Joey locked eyes with his man. “You arguing with me?”
“Uh,” was all Kevin could get out as Joey held him in his gaze.
“Didn’t think you were.” Joey patted Kevin’s jeans clad arse softly. “Go on, sit.”
As the two men ate their breakfast, Joey scanned the local free newspaper. “Fancy going to the organised fireworks display up on the recreation ground for Guy Fawkes night?”
There was no immediate reply. Joey lowered his paper when he heard Kevin’s stool being scraped back. He saw Kevin sinking to his knees and disappearing under the table. Before he had a chance to bend down to find out what the heck was happening, he felt Kevin repeatedly kissing the tops of his feet.
“Thank you, Sir, thank you.”
The erotic nature of the gesture caused Joey to throw instant wood. “Pup, come up here for a minute,” he said, pulling back his stool and patting his bare knee.
Kevin rose to his feet, never breaking the worshipful gaze that shone brightly in his eyes.
“What was all that for?” Joey asked once Kevin was settled.
“Sir,” Kevin swallowed. “You just asked me out on a date. Sorry, I know you probably didn’t think of it as one, but Sir,” his eyes began to fill with tears, “I haven’t been out on a real date in…a long time. Thank you, Sir, thank you so much.” Wrapping his arms around Joey’s neck, Kevin kissed his man square on the lips. “I love you, Sir.”
Joey was overwhelmed. He’d merely intended his suggestion to be a casual evening out, nothing special. Thinking about it further, he realised Kevin was bound to attach far greater significance to it. Given the life he’d had with that bastard Cal, it was highly unlikely the little bloke would have been treated to many proper dates.
Clearing his throat, Joey said, “We’ll make it a date to remember. Maybe we could go out for something to eat afterwards if you want? It’s up to you.” Joey returned Kevin’s kiss. “And I love you, too.” Sighing, he went on, “But look at the time. And our breakfasts are getting cold, so eat up, and I’ll whisk you to work on my black and chrome stallion.”
“My hero.” Kevin sniffed then giggled.
Joey reached over and pulled Kevin’s plate towards them and began to feed his pup by hand.
* * * *
“I don’t give a shit what the fucking tachograph says!” Cal Briggs’ enraged voice was booming from Mr Parker’s office when Kevin entered the outer office. The harsh words chilled him instantly. “I made that fucking delivery! Look, you’ve got the fucking guy’s signature on the bloody docket! Just ring the fucking company if you don’t believe me. They’ll tell you everything arrived!”
Kevin knew this would happen. He wanted to run away and hide till it was all over. He wanted to seek the protection of his sir; however, Kevin found himself paralysed with fear.
“I’m not saying you didn’t make the delivery!” Parker shouted back angrily. “Look it’s all down here. Somehow a one-hundred and sixty mile round trip has been logged as two-hundred and fifteen miles. You drove at least fifty miles more than you needed to. And—”
“You accusing me of fucking ripping you off?”
“You bet I am. You’ve been taking on extra jobs on the side and not running them through the books.”
“Prove it!”
There was a slight rustle of papers. “See here, I got Kevin to compile a list of your last twenty runs.”
Kevin’s blood ran cold. He’d asked, begged Mr Parker not to tell Cal of his involvement. He began to shake.
“Almost every one of these runs listed here has involved extra mileage. And I want an explanation!”
“I don’t have to fucking well justify myself to you.”
“I pay your fucking wages. I pay the road taxes, insurance, diesel and God knows what else. So why the fuck should I foot the bill for all your moonlighting?”
“Come off it, Jerry, everyone does it, you know they do.”
“You’ve done it too often.”
Kevin knew he had to get away. However, he couldn’t catch his breath, his chest felt tight and he was starting to get dizzy. His legs wouldn’t move.
“This is your last warning,” Mr Parker said. “If just one more docket crosses my desk that doesn’t add up, you’ll be out on your arse.”
“You fucking well can’t do that! I’ll get the law, the union on you.”
&nbs
p; “Go ahead. I’ve had it up to here with you. Now get the fuck out before I fire you right now!”
“This isn’t over, Parker, not by a long fucking way,” Cal said, storming out of the inner office, almost ripping the door from its hinges. “You fucking little sneak!” Cal bellowed when he spotted Kevin cowering in the outer doorway. “This is all your fucking fault! You and that prick Goldman cooked all this up. I knew Parker was trying to find a reason to stab me in the back, and you fucking couldn’t wait to help him!” Cal leapt at Kevin, who was so terrified, he felt his bladder release its contents into his underpants.
Lifting Kevin by the throat, Cal sent him crashing into a nearby filing cabinet. The impact caused red hot pain to shoot into Kevin’s head. Kevin was only vaguely aware that Cal had picked him up again and had begun to use his head and upper body as a punching bag.
* * * *
“Ya a right big Jesse. Any excuse to skive off work for a few days, lie in bed, wanking,” Greg, the nearest person Joey could call a friend, said as the two stood in the car park, shooting the shit. Although Joey’s mind was on the conversation with Greg, his eyes were firmly fixed on Kevin’s compact arse as he walked towards the main building. Joey stored his helmet.
“Don’t need to wank,” Joey said.
Greg laughed. “You and him an item, then?”
“Yeah,” Joey breathed out.
“God, how the hell you can fuck another bloke, I’ll never know. Give me a nice big-chested bird every time.”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” Joey smirked.
Greg had always been cool about him being gay. Joey had had to use his fists a couple of times at the beginning, to persuade some of his more bigoted fellow drivers he was no limp wristed fairy. But on the whole most of his work colleagues didn’t mind, or were sensible enough not to comment.
“Who better than another bloke to give a blow job?” Joey said. “He knows what feels good.”